We Were Real
by pinstripedtales
Summary: He slowly stood from the chair and pulled Madge around to face him. She was small, but so far from delicate, and she was beautiful. He pushed hair behind her ear and when her eyes met his, he choked out, "We were real." - Gale/Madge


He didn't know what he was doing there. He paced back and forth in front of the house, debating whether to knock, when he heard the door open and it was decided for him.

"Gale?" Madge had initially only stuck her head out, but walked all the way out when she saw her visitor. She wasn't dressed up like she was on the day of the reaping – nowhere close – and her face was white and strained. "What are you – do you want –" she cleared her throat, shook her head. "Do you want to come in?"

Gale looked her at her, mouth opened to answer but not sure what to say. He started moving toward the door when Madge waved her arm, beckoning him in.

"Come on, we have the games on."

He nodded, following her into her home. He wasn't sure if this was why he came. He'd been watching the games with the Everdeens, mostly, but there were times that he just couldn't handle the pitying glances that Mrs. Everdeen sent him, or the sympathetic pats that Prim gave, when extended clips of the Peeta-Katniss love affair were played.

Somehow it felt wrong to watch with Madge, though, in Madge's house. She led him through their living room, past the first TV – Gale knew that it was rarely on, but he couldn't stop his rage at this family's wealth, unearned and unnecessary, and a slap in the face to families who worked in the mines for barely enough to live on. As she led him up the stairs, he glanced at her room. The door was open and her bed was unmade and rumpled. Gale swallowed a knot in his throat, clearing it for good measure, and followed Madge in the opposite direction.

When she opened the door to her father's office, Gale put out a hand to stop her. "Will your dad be upset that we're in here?"

Madge shrugged and glanced down the hall. "He's in the Justice Building all day. As long as we don't wake my mom we'll be fine."

Gale nodded and followed her in. He knew that the Mayor's family tried not to use their second television, if they could. Madge had told Gale that as the Mayor, the television in Mr. Undersee's office must stay on all day and all night, regardless of whether he was home to see it or not. That left it open to use. There usually wasn't much use for it, of course. Gale couldn't see Madge interested in the happenings of the Capitol and its broadcasts. But during a time like the Games, it was a good viewing place.

They watched in silence, the volume low, and Gale tried not to glance over at Madge. The situation felt wrong, even worse when Katniss's face popped up on the screen. She was up in a tree, and Gale could see Peeta on the ground. The burn on Katniss's leg looked painful and Gale heard Madge intake a sharp breath.

"Never gets easier, does it?" she muttered, and Gale wasn't sure if she meant the Arena, the obstacles, or seeing Katniss up there, but Gale thought she was right about all three.

The action unfolded on the television and Gale couldn't think of a thing to say. Madge didn't seem to mind – that was a nice thing about her, that she never felt the need to fill a silence – and they simply sat and watched together. As day turned to night in the Arena, and it was clear that action would be suspended until the night ended, the video focused in on Peeta and his fight to stay awake through the night.

Gale sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. He looked up and saw Madge staring at him.

"Is it hard?" Her tone was pretty neutral but her face didn't hide her feelings well. He liked being able to read her, maybe because it gave him some power, but also because it made him feel connected to her.

"Is what hard?" he replied, keeping his tone neutral as well, and sure he was doing a much better job with his facial expression.

Madge rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that answer. Everyone knows how close you and Katniss are."

"Did she tell you that in your hours of girl talk?"

She raised her eyebrows at his tone. "Defensive? Anyone could see it, Gale. Anyone with eyes."

He shrugged and decided to stay silent, but Madge clearly liked this line of questioning.

"Now Panem's watching her and Peeta play out a love story," she said, crossing her legs. "It's got to be hard."

Gale looked at her. "Do you think it's real?"

She bit her lip, weighing it in her mind before answering. "From Peeta, no doubt. That's… the essence of Peeta Mellark. But Katniss…" Madge shrugged. "I've never seen them have any contact before. And it's not like she needs love to survive."

A moment of silence passed before Gale managed to respond. "Yeah."

He closed his eyes. He heard movement but didn't open his eyes until he felt Madge's body next to his own. She wrapped her arms around him from behind his chair, in a hug, and he could feel her body pressing into his back. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and chest, and he leaned back into her, open to this comfort. Her head was on top of his for a while, but she slowly moved it down, resting beside his.

Gale could hear her breathing, and it was calming and deep, and made him feel a little better and a little worse. He sighed and her name escaped from his lips.

There was a short moment before Madge whispered in his ear. "Were we real?"

He didn't know. He didn't want to analyze it because yes, they were real, but no, they weren't. Was this why he had come over to her house? What had he been hoping for? Comfort? Her bed? Her love?

"Can you really deny it, Gale?" she whispered, shaky.

He slowly stood from the chair and pulled Madge around to face him. She was small, but so far from delicate, and she was beautiful. He pushed hair behind her ear and when her eyes met his, he choked out, "We were real."

When their lips met, neither tried to stop it, and they took comfort from the other, holding each other.

"Are we more or less real if Katniss dies?" Madge asked, her voice low, but Gale felt like she just smashed him in the stomach. Madge clearly didn't like her question, either, because she backed away from him, holding her stomach, and crouched in a chair.

Neither one spoke. The only noise came from the commentary and replays from the television, the games and interviews. The room got darker and Madge turned on a lamp – another thing Gale wanted to hate Madge for – and the two of them resumed their silence.

"Do you think she can win?" Madge suddenly asked, and when Gale looked up, he saw a replay of Katniss and the fireballs spitting at her, and the terrified look on her face.

Gale met Madge's eyes. "I hope so."

Madge never broke eye contact as she stood and moved in front of Gale. She took his hands, pulling him up from his chair, bringing his face down for a kiss. He didn't resist – welcomed it even, needed it and her comfort. And when Madge whispered, "My dad won't be home for a while longer," and pulled him into her bedroom, he went with her, their whispers and sighs quiet but meaningful.

Real.

She walked him to the door an hour later, messy hair and dressing gown giving no apologies. Gale hesitated at the door, not sure what to do, but like before, Madge decided for him.

"Goodnight, Gale. I'll see you soon," she whispered, and closed the door.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Let me know what you think!


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